


Farmboys

by sladdertacka



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Secret Relationship, Side Quests
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-31
Updated: 2017-03-31
Packaged: 2018-10-13 05:54:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10507635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sladdertacka/pseuds/sladdertacka
Summary: Skye and Erik the Slayer regale three Companions with one of their epic adventures.





	

The Bannered Mare was quiet this time of night, gloom enveloping the building as the fire waned in the pit. In the far corner, some of The Companions were relaxing from a long day of work, huddled around a small table with a tankard in hand. Aela, Torvar and Vilkas hunched forward as they listened to the tale of the newcomers, two twenty-something farmboys from Rorikstead, sipping their mead between bouts of uproarious laughter.

 

“So you go back home and…?” Vilkas questioned as another fit of laughter died.

 

“Well,” Skye continued “I get back to Rorikstead… And this… This guy, Ennis…” He steadied himself in his chair, already waving Hulda over for another bottle. “He always had a stick up his ass, even when we were growing up, anyway he has this prize… Sheep or something.”

 

Erik snickered beside him. “Goat, Skye. Gleda.”

 

Torvar snorted. “What kinduva name is _Skye_ …”

 

“It’s miiine.” Skye had intended to intimidate, although it had come out as a jovial whine. “Where wa- Oh, yeah, so he’s raving like an absolute madman, I have a lot of nerve showing my face again, you know the drill… And I have _no_ idea what he’s talking about. _Apparently_ I ran off with his sheep,”

 

“Goat.” Erik again corrected.

 

“Aye, Glenda,”

 

“Gleda.”

 

“… And sold it to a giant.” The companions chuckled amongst themselves.

 

“That I did.” He grinned. “My head is still _killing_ me, I’ve barely had anything to drink since we stopped at the Inn where my pa works, and now I have to run off to Whiterun to settle some debt-”

 

“Come to think of it, I do remember seeing you running through here in the dead of night.” Aela interjected. “You and Ysolda were having a heated discussion, if I’m remembering correctly?”

 

Skye nodded. “Something about a wedding ring, the most romantic proposal she’d ever heard, and I owe her 2,000 Septims.”

 

“Damn,” Vilkas breathed. “ _2,000_?”

 

“Aye, 2,000.”

 

“Did you pay her?”

 

Skye snorted indignantly. “Would I be drowning my sorrows with you fine people, hocking my blade for coin, if I had 2,000 Septims? No, I had to try and figure out where I’d taken her damn ring. Oh, and track down that damn sheep.”

 

“Goat.”

 

“I _eventually_ found Gladys,”

 

“Gleda.”

 

“ _Apparently_ giants carry coin, because Ennis tells me I sold her. So I head south and, sure enough, the damn sheep”

 

“Goat.”

 

He shot a glare at Erik and continued. “Is with this giant, I don’t speak giant but I have a good feeling his name was Grok, and I really have no idea how to go about this so I just sit down behind a rock and start firing arrows at the thing.” He paused to take a long swig of mead. “I guess I _shouldn’t_ fault him for not just looking down and crushing me, being, well, a _giant_ and all, but all he does is stand there looking round the damn fields for whoever is firing arrows at him and finally just drops dead when I land one straight through his eye.” He paused again to empty his mug. “So I just flounce on up to her, tie some rope around her neck and lead her home.”

 

“ _You_ took down a giant _alone_?” Aela scoffed. “You mean to tell me, you two milk-drinking troll bait took down a giant on open ground _alone_? If I recall, the day we met we were bringing down a giant and you were both absolutely _useless_!”

 

“And if _I_ recall correctly, we were both armed with dull swords and bows that were little more than toys, walking out of the city gates where Skye had been _imprisoned_ \- wrongly, might I add- and the thing was already cold by the time we were passing the farm when you told us we were useless during the whole ordeal that _we were not a part of_.” Erik retorted, teetering on the edge of rage.

 

“… What he just said.” Skye agreed, as Aela huffed and sat back in her chair, arms folded.

 

“Alright, then, so you killed the giant. Then what?”

 

“Ennis tells me I was supposed to be paying Ysolda, so I headed straight here. Met her by the well.”

 

“And?”

 

There was a drawn out pause, nobody spoke, Skye waved Hulda over yet again and she approached with refills for him, Torvar and Aela.

 

“Did I ever tell you about my fiancée?”

 

Aela looked up at him, brows furrowed. “You’re getting married?” She shot an inquisitive look at Erik.

 

“No, and _no_.” A long swig of ale later, and he was ready to share his tale. “Moira, was her name.”

 

Their faces softened in grief for their friend.

 

“Finest of her kind, ashen skin, shapely body, dark hair that hung around her face like… Like…” He fell silent as he mused. “Her feathers were soft, too.”

 

“ _Feathers_?”

 

“Oh, aye, she was a Hagraven.”

 

Aela groaned as her companions snorted with laughter.

 

“You were so drunk you proposed to a damn _Hagraven_?” Vilkas guffawed.

 

“And a damn fine one she was!” Skye exclaimed. “I hear it was quite a beautiful story. We met under a full moon in Witchmist Grove, under the biggest tree surrounded by fireflies. I got a ring from Ysolda, credited for 2,000 Septims, though I’m not sure whose bright idea it was to hold the ceremony at Morvunskar. Overrun with mages, none too happy to hold a wedding ceremony, mind. Of course, Sam is set to be my best man, the very same who got me into this mess and I had been trying to track down since…”

 

“And then? Did you ever recover the ring?” Vilkas asked, enthralled.

 

“What kind of gentleman would I be if I didn’t return the ring to the lovely Ysolda? We set off immediately from Whiterun, straight to Witchmist Grove, where my beloved was eagerly awaiting my return.”

 

“By the Gods…” Vilkas muttered. “Tell me, did you consummate?” He snickered.

 

“I’m getting to it! But first, Hulda!”

 

She sighed and returned to their small gathering, a fresh tankard of mead appearing in Skye’s hand soon after.

 

“And when I return to her hut, what do I find? She’s gone!”

 

“Imagine,” Aela scoffed. “Being so undesirable a _Hagraven_ left you at the altar.”

 

“I never said she’d run off on me.” He scowled. “But she was nowhere to be found, so we decided we’d try Jorrvaskr.”

 

“Morvunskar.” Erik sighed.

 

“That one.” Skye confirmed. “Yeah, a lot of mages, definitely not happy to see us. We _may_ have paid them a visit to arrange the ceremony beforehand.” He shrugged. “Nothing a bow can’t fix.”

 

Erik nodded in approval. “Skye moves as silent as the grave. All they remember is the shadows closing in.”

 

“You speak very highly of Skye…” Aela noted.

 

The man in question smiled and gave Erik’s shoulder a squeeze. “Aye.”

 

He coughed awkwardly. “So, we cleared Morvunskar…”

 

“Yes, the last two were more difficult, a pyromancer and an _electromancer_ , which is fancy talk for dead mage.”

 

They laughed amongst themselves.

 

“Then some Daedra portal opened up, and we walked through it.”

 

“A _Daedra portal_?” Vilkas scoffed. “And you _willingly_ walked _into it_?”

 

“That we did. Lovely place, really, serene… Waterfalls, bridges, lanterns, fireflies, _music_ … Sky was a little off-putting, made my head spin.”

 

“You sound like you miss it.”

 

“It was _beautiful_ … Seemed such a waste, to leave such a beautiful place and not get married.” He shrugged it off and sighed. “Sam was waiting for us, turns out that was the place he took us, _also_ turns out he’s Sanguine, Prince of Debauchery and all that. He was _very_ impressed with our spectacle-“

 

“ _Your_ spectacle.” Erik huffed.

 

“Anyway, I won his staff, he sent us back to Rorikstead, we were standing in his father’s Inn and all was well. Until I got back to Whiterun with Ysolda up my ass. So, back to Witchmist Cove…”

 

They smirked to themselves as they prepared for the end to his epic tale.

 

“She’s waiting outside the hut, as soon as she spots me she exclaims ‘Darling! I’ve been waiting for you to return!’ ” He emulated a low, gravelly voice between fits of giggles. “She- Sh…” Another bout of giggles followed. “She was waiting for me to ‘consummate our love’, and I just didn’t know _what_ to say… What _is_ proper etiquette for calling off a wedding with a Hagraven, anyway? So I ask her for the ring back, and she is _not_ happy- she… She thought I wanted it for ‘that hussy Esmerelda, with the dark feathers’.” He rumbled in his best Hagraven impression, causing his drinking companions to roar with laughter. “Well, she just _couldn’t_ bear the thought! ‘I won’t let her have you!’ she cries, lunging straight for my throat! I swear, if Erik hadn’t drawn his bow the moment I’d asked her for the ring, I may be riding down the crossing with the headless horseman!”

 

“I take it you got the ring back?” Aela mused. “Since your head isn’t on a pike in Ysolda’s garden.”

 

“Aye.” He nodded. “I think it all went pretty well, in the end.”

 

“And what became of Moira?” Vilkas inquired.

 

“She makes a better pillow than wife.” Another bout of roaring laughter ensued, and another round of drinks was ordered.

 

“Do you two ever have any _normal_ stories?” Aela smirked. “It seems each time we meet, you’ve gotten yourself into some new fantasy adventure.”

 

Skye paused for a few moments, deep in thought. “… I could tell you about the bear we fought on the way to the hut?”

 

 

 

Skye and Erik lay together, limbs entangled, on the rented bed, enjoying the comfortable silence broken only by their quiet, rhythmic breathing.

 

“We’re not telling them, then?” Erik asked.

 

“Why should we?” Skye answered, outstretching his hand and flexing his fingers, proudly displaying the ring that had belonged to Erik’s late mother. “… It was generous of Sanguine… To grant our wishes.”

 

Erik smiled and hummed in agreement. “My father was always eager to see me start my own family… I think it took him by surprise, though, to be my best man.”

 

Skye was nodding along. “My sister always wanted to be someone’s maid of honour, she’d never have forgiven me if I’d robbed her of her chance. Oh, and my father, I think he was _more_ surprised than Mralki, to, you know, be giving _me_ away.”

 

They chuckled to themselves softly.

 

“… And Sissel…” Erik murmured.

 

“What wedding doesn’t have a flower girl? Or a bridesmaid? Or that one little girl that dances on everyone’s feet?” Skye grinned. “… Besides,” He continued, solemn. “… She’s owed a night to escape. Just dance, be a kid, without that bratty sister or… Fetcher of a father.”

 

Erik hooked his arm around his waist and pulled him closer. “We’ll go home soon. See father, figure out the next step…”  


“How about… We kill Lemkil… And we take Sissel,”

 

“That is called murder and kidnap.”

 

“Nobody will even know it’s us! And we’ll take Sissel from the orphanage, skeeverhead.”

 

“That’s still _murder_ , troll bait.”

 

“But it’s right there in his name!”

 

“Skye.”

 

“Alright, fine,” He huffed. “We’ll ask him _nicely_ if we can take Sissel.”

 

“… Maybe.”

 

“That means yes.”

 

“It means _maybe_.”

 

“Mhm. That’s what they all say, Erik.” He smirked. “… Before they say yes.”

 

“Can’t talk, I’m sleeping.”

 

“That doesn’t even make-“ Erik cut him off, snoring loudly before they both erupted into a fit of giggles, right up until Hulda shouted angrily from across the Inn for them to shut up before she left them outside in the cold with nothing but their loincloths and boots.

 

They splayed out, fitting comfortably together, Erik’s arms wrapped loosely around his waist and Skye’s thrown over him while their legs were tangled beneath the woollen blanket. They fell into a comfortable sleep, with dreams of their wedding night, fresh in their minds, and the road ahead- from here, Rorikstead, and from there, wherever the wind would take them. That’s how Skye had always put it, and Erik was always more than happy to follow.


End file.
